


Dates Never To Be Had

by missmishka



Category: Dawn of the Dead (1978)
Genre: Angst, Extended Scene, F/M, Implied Relationships, M/M, Some profanity, Spoilers for movie, brief mentions of sex, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1115182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmishka/pseuds/missmishka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time is short at the end of the world and often all you're left with is the realization of all the things you'll never get to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dates Never To Be Had

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.

Flyboy wants to propose to his Flygirl. 

Peter tries not to hate them for their happiness; for their continued survival and togetherness. 

Stephen takes for granted that Peter will help with the proposal and Peter tries to get in the spirit of things. 

He runs around the mall with the other man, helping pick rings for the couple and suits for the men to make it a classy affair.  He gathers supplies for a nice, elegant dinner; complete with candles to light the table for two.  He puts everything into a duffle bag to carry back to their stronghold and tries not to remember a little green wheelbarrow or the man he’d recently pushed around in it.

He tops it all off with a bottle of champagne and, on some impulse, grabs a second bottle for himself.

He takes time and care to prepare the meal, using skills he’d seen but never practiced in his mama’s kitchen.  He sets the table, puts a bottle of champagne on ice next to the table, lights the candles and calls the couple in for their dinner.  Fran’s surprise and delight at the extravagance is gratifying and he smiles his first real smile in days as he excuses himself to let Stephen do his proposing.

He grabs the second bottle of bubbly and lets his feet carry him back to the place he hasn’t wanted to leave since he first found himself at it; Roger’s side. 

The ‘grave’ is probably one of the worst ideas that Stephen had had, but Peter hadn’t argued the man’s want to bury his friend.  Roger deserved a proper burial, but they couldn’t risk going outside to give it to him.  He would begin to rot and stink under the fake turf inside the mall, but Peter wouldn’t let his body be stacked in the freezer with the corpses of the zombies that they’d killed to clean the place out.  A funeral pyre could have been erected, but they couldn’t burn him inside and a fire on the roof would be too risky of the place burning down or too much attention being drawn to their location. 

There were no options.

Not that any of it really mattered.

Roger was dead.

Peter tries his damnedest not to want to join the man in death. 

He’s never been a suicidal or fatalistic person, but the thought of continuing life without the other man is one that gets harder with the passing of time.  Roger, the crazy little bastard, had been sunshine and laughter.  Without him, this place was darkness and tears Peter wouldn’t allow himself to shed.

He stands over the grave and tries to think of words to say, but nothing comes.  He pops the cork on the champagne and tries to feel something as the alcohol bubbles out over his fingers; leaving them slick and sticky. 

Had he been there, Roger would have sucked those fingers into his mouth and laved them clean with that pink tongue of his.  His laughter would have spilled between them as they guzzled the champagne straight from the bottle and tasted it on each other’s lips. 

But that was just one of the many things that they’d never gotten to do.

Peter tips the bottle toward the grave in silent toast to the dead man before he throws his head back and gulps the liquor down; wishing for something with more of a burn and punch to numb him. 

He slides down the trunk of an artificial tree to sit on the ground with his legs drawn up.  He dangles the bottle loosely from his hands between his knees and stares unseeingly at the label.  He thinks of Fran happily accepting Stephen’s proposal at that moment; of them falling into one another’s arms with declarations of love and want and he grits his teeth against pain like acid in his gut.

He never could have had that, marriage, with Roger, even if the man were still alive and the world hadn’t turned to shit, but if only he could have had the love and want a little longer.  If only he could have had a candlelight dinner and shared sips of champagne.

All they’d had, though, were rushed and secret meetings; in janitor’s closets, store rooms and dressing rooms.  Watching what passed for ‘news’ now on the TV followed by a frantic make-out session in the back seat of one of the VWs on display in the mall did not equate an actual date even if it had made Peter feel like a fucking teenager. 

But every second had counted.  They’d made sure of that.  They’d laughed and talked and fucked as much as they could manage in the time that they’d had. 

If only Roger would have listened and kept his head; hadn’t gone back after than bag like a damned fool and gotten himself bit. 

Peter tips back his head and pours the last of the champagne in his mouth, misjudging how much is left and nearly choking himself as his mouth fills to overflowing.  He imagines how Roger would have laughed at him for that; remembers a time when he had sucked the other man off and been unable to swallow it all as Roger came in his mouth. 

He swallows down the liquid with some difficulty given the knot of emotion lodged in his throat.  His hand swipes at the wetness on his chin as he stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the wetness on his cheeks that's much too near his eyes to have anything to do with champagne.


End file.
